A New Season
by Jas Moia
Summary: The trio defeated Voldemort (with no small amount of help), yet their lives, and the lives of others, weren't what they could have been. But what if Harry, Ron, and Hermione could do it all again? Another spin on a time travel story, hopefully done a little different. Rated M for language, themes, and violence. Dumbledore bashing, independent Harry, and no romance beyond flings.


**Here's to chapter 2, my longest chapter yet. Let me know what you think in a review or PM.**

* * *

Harry hadn't seen Diagon Alley look like this in a long time. In fact, he hadn't seen it look like this since the summer before his sixth year. Though by now the world was aware of Voldemort's return, the alley was still trafficked by witches and wizards, though they were glancing shiftily at every other passerby.

Settling into the idea that this just may be irreversible, Harry vowed this time around would be different.

Steeling himself once more, Harry reminded himself that he was a 24 year old man and knew how to handle his goblins.

The towering marble building was one thing that hadn't changed over the years, hadn't been touched by the war.

Two goblin guards stood sentry by the open doors, allowing Harry to walk past without sparing him a second glance.

Bypassing the relatively busy teller lines, Harry approached a goblin stationed by the vault doors.

"Griphook, hello," Harry said. "May fortune ever find you."

"And may your vaults ever flow with gold," Griphook greeted back, clearly shocked. Many a year had gone by since a wizard had greeted a goblin in that way, let alone by name. "May I help you with something?"

"Indeed," Harry agreed. "Perhaps it would be possible for me to discuss a matter of trust and wealth with Ragnok."

Griphook was definitely in shock now. This wizard knew the director by name?

As if on second thought, Harry pushed back his hood and bangs, showing his scar. "Please."

Without a word, Griphook clambered down from his stool and began leading Harry further into the bank, down a path Harry knew surprisingly well.

Intent on making small talk on the way to the office, Harry asked "How are you today, Griphook?"

"I am well, Mister Potter." Griphook said after a moments pause. "And yourself?"

"Good enough," Harry said. "So what do you do here at the bank?"

"I am a teller's assistant," Griphook provided. "Escorting people to vaults and offices."

"And you've done that for how long?" Harry asked curiously.

"Since I began working at the bank some twenty years ago," Griphook said.

"Really?" Harry replied, shocked. "Never anything else?"

"It is not the goblin way," Griphook said. "Though I could easily do other jobs from my years here, this is the one I am assigned. And as I am no warrior, smith, or miner, banking is my profession."

Harry merely hummed thoughtfully as they walked around the last turn. Griphook was busy marveling over the strange wizard that had made small chat with a goblin.

Approaching the grand office doors, two sentries knocked and announced Harry's presence. With a jaunty wave at Griphook, Harry stepped into the familiar office and let the doors sweep shut behind him.

Ragnok looked much the same as he always had, if not slightly younger. Goblin suit tailored and battle-axes crossed over the wall behind him, the goblin made an imposing presence.

"And you are?" He asked curtly, but not impolitely.

Shedding his cloak, Harry gave a loose bow at the waist.

"Thank you for having the time to meet with me today, Director Ragnok." Harry said. "May fortune ever find you, my name is Harry Potter."

"And may your vaults ever fill with gold," The goblin said. If Harry could make-out his eyebrows, he was sure they would be raised.

"And your pockets too," Harry said back. "Which brings me to why I am here."

Taking a seat in front of the desk at the goblins gesture, Harry began outlining what he wanted.

"As the last surviving member of the inheriting branch of the Potter family, as well as being the heir of house Black, I believe I am able to claim these lordships early, am I not?"

"You are," Ragnok agreed. "At the age of thirteen, in fact. There was much speculation as to why you have yet to do so, Heir Potter."

"An oversight on the behalf of my magical guardian, I assure you." Harry stated, thinking of Dumbledore. Harry hadn't claimed his titles until after the war due to the old dingbat. "I'm here to rectify that today."

"Should be a simple matter then," Ragnok said, pushing a rune inscribed bowl towards Harry. "Prick your finger on the edge there," the goblin instructed.

Harry, knowing what he was to do, poked the tip of his finger on the small needle attached to the bowl and allowed seven drops of his blood to fall in, the wound sealing quickly thereafter.

Ragnok hummed over the results for a second, shuffling through some papers in his drawers.

"Your parents, unfortunately, were never able to make a will," Ragnok informed him, though Harry already knew. "Sirius Black did, however, and left you everything with the provision of 100,000 galleons to Remus Lupin. The rings will be here shortly, if you would start signing these. Once you have, you'll be a legal adult and exempt from underage magic restrictions."

With a stack of parchment in hand, Harry began reading over each page, signing and initialing where required, allowing his blood to drop on a seal on the last page.

"Could I have the estate ledgers and files, please?" Harry requested politely once he had turned the parchment back over.

Just as Harry asked, a goblin entered through a side door with two large books and two boxes, leaving as quickly as he had come.

"Here you are," Ragnok said politely as he pushed the boxes and ledgers to Harry.

Taking the rings, Harry slid the thick gold band with a ruby center and the Potter seal on either side of it onto his hand. The Black ring, thick silver, had a coiled snake on one side of the black diamond and the Black seal on the other.

Harry felt the familial magic sweep over him, and felt the knowledge of unplottable properties return to him. He hadn't realized there was so much he was missing without them.

Harry, not rushed by Ragnok, opened to the back of each ledger to check the account managers signatures.

"I'd like to have both accounts managed by the same goblin, if you wouldn't mind," Harry requested, knowing he wouldn't be told no.

"Of course, Lord Potter," Ragnok said.

"Harry," the emerald eyed boy interrupted. "If you would."

"Right, Harry," Ragnok said, giving Harry an odd look. It had indeed been many a year since a wizard such as Harry Potter had walked the halls of Gringotts. "Which account manager will you be switching them to today?"

"Neither," Harry said. "Don't like either of them. And Gutfist (Potter) should have never been trusted to invest. Though with our annual profits, he hasn't harmed the account."

Ragnok again looked shocked, first by Harry's proclamation and then by Harry's knowledge of the account.

"I'd like to have Griphook as my accounts manager," Harry said, shocking the goblin even more.

"I'm afraid that Griphook is a teller's assistant, not an accounts manager." Ragnok said.

"Well then," Harry replied with a smile. "I'm happy to hear he'll be receiving such a promotion. Surely it can be arranged?"

"Without issue, Lord Pot- Harry." Ragnok said, scribbling something down.

"Good." Harry said with a grin. "I'd like to see about a bank card as well as bank cheques, and a money pouch."

Reaching into his desk, Ragnok pulled out a simple black card and began binding it to Harry. "Which vault shall I tie it to?"

"The main vault of the Potters," Harry said, as it was the largest and grew the steadiest. Dropping a bit of blood onto the card, Harry pocketed it, a pack of personal cheques, and the small money bag with ease.

"I'd also be interested in purchasing a property," Harry said. "In England, but not one already owned by the family. Muggle or magic. And of course, money is no issue."

Though Ragnok was normally not the one to deal with such petty matters as estate, when Lord Potter asked, he was inclined to deliver.

"Any specifications to narrow down the search?"

After sorting all of Harry's specifications, and allowing the young lord to sort through the files, Harry had settled on a suitable property.

3 story with a four car garage, the Mediterranean style Arrowwood estate was the picture of refined elegance. It had 8 bedrooms, 10 bathrooms, and 4 half-baths scattered around. At the center of the house was a large, three story library with a walkway on the second floor that actually went through the library, providing a second entrance. Private pool, sculpted grounds, and a large basement already set up as a training and exercise room. Located on an isolated tract of land near Cromer, in the Norfolk area, it was perfect for what Harry wanted.

"I would of course, appreciate Gringotts warding services there as soon as possible," Harry said.

"I'll have them sent over now." Ragnok said. "As to the matter of wards-"

"Cardinal stones with a center stabilizer," Harry interrupted. "Electroshock warning wards and possibility of lethality on command."

Ragnok had never dealt with a wizard like Harry Potter before, but he did commend him for knowing what he wanted.

"How soon will they be done?" Harry asked. "And does the house come furnished?"

"Fully furnished with muggle appliances," Ragnok said. "And the warding should be done by late tonight."

"So move in tomorrow then," Harry mused. "Could you have it added to the floo network?"

"It'll be done," Ragnok said. He shuffled in his desk for a minute before coming up with a glass sphere, smaller than a crystal ball. He focused for a moment and Harry felt the unique twang of goblin magic before he handed Harry the ball. "Just say the name of the Estate when you're ready to go there tomorrow, it will get through the wards."

"Thank you," Harry said as he took it, pocketing it.

"Will that be all, Mister Potter?"

"Oh how could I forget?" Harry asked rhetorically as he laughed to himself. "While I don't want them recalled, as that would be suspicious, I want all existing keys to any of my vaults be nullified."

"I'll have that handled immediately," Ragnok assured.

"And let it be known that only Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, or myself have access to my vaults and matters of property."

"It is so forth known."

"Thank you again for your time, Director," Harry said as he stood. "As ever, I appreciate the goblin swiftness and surety in these matters. Shall I send Griphook in as I leave?"

"If you would."

Harry bowed again as he left, receiving a nod of the head as he opened the doors.

"Griphook," Harry said, upon finding the goblin sitting near the sentries. "The Director would like to see you."

Griphook looked shocked, and a tad nervous. Had this wizard put him in hot water with the most powerful goblin in the bank?

"And congratulations on your promotion," Harry whispered conspiratorially as he passed. He enjoyed the wide-eyed disbelief in the goblins eyes as a sentry escorted him back to the main bank floor.

* * *

Once Harry was free of the bank, it was nearing 9:30 in the morning. He figured he had enough time to make a few purchases. Taking a moment to cast a simple glamor that changed his hair to a light brown and his eyes to blue, he set off.

His first stop was a potions store (not apothecary) down one of Diagon's side alleys. They sold a variety of pre-made, quality potions.

There he purchased a two week supply of nutrient potions that would help get his body on track. He also bought a supply of pain reducers, blood replenishers, head ache, skelegrow, disinfectant, and dreamless sleep potions for the house. He would need to convert a room into a potions lab and medical area, just in case.

While there, he came across a large wooden box with many separators on the inside. Inside were a variety of 35 magical seeds, some of which Harry knew to be hard to find.

"Hi," Harry said to the lady at the counter. "Can you have this gift wrapped and sent to the Longbottoms by today?"

"Of course sir," The clerk said. "For two more galleons I can guarantee delivery in five hours."

"Perfect, thank you," Harry responded, handing over his card while she rang him up.

He took the quill and card, writing a simple "Happy Birthday Neville, from Harry, Hermione, and Ron" then putting it into the box.

Leaving the store with his bag shrunk and pocketed, Harry approached the luggage store.

He quickly picked up three shrinkable trunks of the same build but made of different woods, each of them having 4 compartments and a secure warding system. Two of the compartments were normal expanded trunk compartments. One was specially for clothes, with a stacking, folding, and pressing enchantment thrown in. The other was for books and potions ingredients, with a sort of revolving shelf on the inside.

He also grabbed three backpacks and an over the shoulder purse for Hermione. Each would hold an endless amount of items thanks to the enchantments.

Taking the darkest trunk for his own, Harry tapped his wand to it, then put a backpack in each and the purse in the lightest colored trunk.

Looking at the pathetic hand-me-downs from the Dursleys, Harry knew he needed a new wardrobe.

Once in Madam Malkins, Harry was measured and picked a set of ten robes and many slacks, button ups, and a few sweaters.

Guessing Ron and Hermione's approximate sizings (quite accurately), he got Ron a few sets of everyday robes he knew his friend would appreciate, as well as two new black cloaks for each of them.

With packages again assigned to trunks, Harry's next stop was the book store. He made things simple by asking the clerk to package one of every book aside from school books, choosing to select his own course books for sixth year.

Per Hermione's wishes, he also gathered many magazines and papers from the last couple weeks and bought them as well.

A trip to Ollivander's saw him off with three wrist action auror grade wand holsters, the same as what they had before.

Eleven now, Harry, in new slacks and a grey button-up, entered the Leaky Cauldron and shed his cloak, heading into muggle London.

Soon coming across a newsstand, Harry bought five or six muggle newspapers from around the world, and a small stack of accredited magazines.

Electronics shop next on his list, Harry walked into the first one he saw, quickly getting himself on a plan and paying the bill on it for the next year. Ten (in case of accidents) of the newest Motorola StarTAC clamshell flip phones were added to his bill and bagged for him. The fact that they were 6,000 pounds in total didn't phase him.

While he was there, Harry also picked up a radio and a great deal of CD's. He was counting down the years until some of his favorite muggle music was released.

Harry got some change for a pay phone and stepped into a booth, dialing Hermione.

After a couple rings, she picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Mione, planning to meet Ron in the orchard at noon. You game?"

"Hell yeah I'm game," she said. "Mom and Dad are at the practice."

"Alright, just apparate in there. You know the spot?"

"Pretty sure yeah. I'll be there, noon on the dot."

"Alright, bye," Harry said.

"Cya Harry," Hermione responded before hanging up the line.

Harry's next stop in muggle London was a basic department store. Once inside, he grabbed multiple pairs of pants, in all of their sizes. Charms could size them perfectly if they were wrong.

He also grabbed multiple sets of exercise outfits, track pants and gym shorts, plus the sports bras Harry knew Hermione liked.

If they were to be stuck here, they weren't going to slack in bringing their bodies up to par.

Once Harry was done there, it was nearing noon.

Making his way back to the Cauldron took him fifteen minutes, so he hurried to put away the things he had got Ron and Hermione in their trunks.

"Hey Tom," Harry asked as he approached, still glamored. "Any soups on the stove?"

"Potato soup today," Tom answered as he wiped down the bar.

"Can I have three orders of that to go, with a loaf of bread?" Harry asked. "Oh and three butterbeers."

Tom was quick to bag and charm the food, handing it to Harry.

"I'm gonna miss whiskey," Harry thought to himself.

With a minute to spare, Harry turned on his heel and apparated into the Weasley's orchid.

* * *

The spot they all knew of was relatively deep into the orchard, not too far from where the property lines ended. It was far enough away that the Burrow was barely visible. It also looked the same as just about any other spot in the orchard. It only stood out to the trio because it was the portkey landing zone at one point.

When he arrived, Ron was two rows away, waving at Harry when he saw him.

Harry backed away some, turning to watch where Hermione should come in from.

A moment later, there was a faint pop as Hermione appeared. Standing in a circle, they stared at each other.

"Damn." Harry said.

"You're back to being scrawny again, mate," Ron said, then looking at Hermione. "And Hermione-"

"Don't say a thing, Ronald." Hermione growled, patting her hair self consciously. "I'll fix it later."

Harry waved his wand and conjured a large wooden platform that fit between the trees perfectly, a foot off the ground. Then he conjured and white and red checkered blanket over it, before pulling out the bagged food.

"Really Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I don't like bugs." Harry said simply, stepping up onto the platform.

Testing his cushioning charm, Hermione sat on the blanket then shrugged, getting comfortable.

They sat there quietly for a moment while Harry passed out the soups.

"So…" Ron trailed off. "I'd like to vote to blame Harry."

"I second that." Hermione said seriously. "Majority rules, motion passed. Harry it's your fault."

"Arse holes." Harry grumbled, transfiguring spoons from napkins.

None of them really knew what to say.

"I don't really understand how this happened," Harry said. "Or if it's permanent, or that I'm not just a coma patient."

"Judging by the wand waving and platform conjuring, you got some things in order at Gringotts," Ron observed. "We need a plan."

"It'll be our sixth year at Hogwarts," Harry said. "Which is when things really went to shit."

"If we act fast enough we can get our hands on the Gaunt ring before Dumbledore rots his hand off," Ron chimed in.

"Do we have to?" Hermione asked.

"He'll die eventually otherwise, if Snape doesn't get to it this time." Harry noted.

"So should our first plan be to get the Horcruxes?" Hermione asked.

"Second plan, on the back burner," Ron said. "Harry, parchment and pen?"

Harry conjured the items wordlessly, handing them over.

"So our first step needs to be freedom," Ron mumbled as he noted something down on the paper. "From our parents, I mean. Harry, you took care of that for you. Hermione, you could just ask yours and they'd say yes. It's me that's gonna be difficult."

Hermione made a thoughtful noise.

"Could always just run away," Harry suggested. "Leave a note or something, 'Gone for the summer.'"

"Well yeah but that's pretty simplistic."

"Does it need to be complicated?" Hermione asked. "There's really nothing we could do to get you away from them, and there's no reason to try, as it's pretty much your last year having to live there."

"I did my mandatory years already, not doing any more."

"Then I'd say Harry's plan works well."

"Hermione you just said Harry's plan works well."

"It'll work out alright, Ronald."

"Hermione."

"Alright alright, I know. But there's like, minimal chances of death here so how bad could it be?"

"Where Molly Weasley is involved?" Harry chimed in. He was going to ignore that they had been insulting him. "Oh, and I sent Neville a large box of rare seeds from all three of us, since today is his birthday."

"Touche," Hermione agreed. "And nice idea Harry."

"Also, wand holsters." Harry said, reaching into his pocket and handing them both one.

Hermione and Ron both looked relieved to have them back, same model as the ones they had as well. Would never have to take them off, even asleep or showering.

"But back to getting away," Ron said. "We'd need somewhere to go. Harry?"

"Bought a house today," he said. "Goblins will be finished by sometime late tonight with the wards. And you two will be able to practice magic just fine within them, ministry won't be able to get a read."

"Hm okay," Ron muttered, thinking.

"Oh yeah, Hermione," Harry said. He pulled out the bags of phones from his earlier shopping, as well as the bags of newspapers and magazines. "Here, and there's the phones."

"You realize these are top of the line cell phones?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, it's sad." Harry said. "Wait for the iPhone."

"How do you even know about that?" Hermione asked.

"I have a decent share in Apple." Harry said. "We'd just started development on it early 2004, I was pushing some money into it."

"Huh," Hermione said, stumped.

"The more you know," Ron joked.

"Also, got us all trunks," he said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out 3. He passed the lighter one to Hermione, keeping his, and pushing the other in front of Ron, resizing them with a wave of his wand.

"Just tap your wands to the lids," Harry explained, watching as they did so. "There's some robes inside in the right sizes. If they're off, I'll resize them at the house. I also got some muggle exercise clothes. Although I'm not enjoying the 90's coloration of, well, everything."

"Yeah I know," Hermione agreed, rolling her eyes. "My mom's weekend clothes, and her casual Friday scrubs."

"God you should see my mums hair," Ron pitched in, wanting to be included.

"Should see your own hair," Harry quipped.

"Your mum's hair?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well it's like the brightest thing in the house." Ron explained defensively. "The wizarding world doesn't quite keep with the heights of muggle fashion."

"So Hermione, tonight, ask your mum and dad if you can come stay here for the rest of the summer. Something about Harry's birthday maybe." Harry said.

"No that won't work," Ron disagreed. "As soon as they know I'm gone, let alone you're gone, they're going to go to Hermione's house and ask her parents."

"Damn."

"I'll just tell them I'm staying at a friends house over the summer, it won't be a big deal." Hermione said, waving them off. "Although, they might still be pissed about the ministry incident. Should be fine."

"And if not, pull a Ron." Harry said.

"Or I could memory charm them and send them to Australia." Hermione said cheerfully.

"Or we could, yeah, never do that again." Ron muttered. "Was hell finding them again and fixing their memories."

"Australia, hell," Harry mused. "Same thing."

"Back to the topic at hand," Hermione said. "We all get away, at Harry's house, searching for Horcruxes on the side. How do we destroy them if we find them?"

"I can always go back to the chamber, or steal Gryffindor's sword." Harry pointed out. "And what do we do about Nagini this time? Because we can't count on her turning up like last time."

"I might have some ideas for that one," Hermione said. "Hopefully that will see her dead. Just use the killing curse? Isn't a life sentence if we're caught anyways, not on a snake."

"That'll work." Harry said. "We can figure out what you have planned then."

"What about Hufflepuff's cup in the LeStrange vault?" Ron asked. "Definitely isn't going to work like last time."

"I might have some plans for that one too," Hermione said. "Need to do some research."

"Of course," Ron teased.

"The locket will be easy enough," Harry said. "If we get to it before Mudungus steals it."

"I know the house is yours Harry, but the order is still in it." Hermione mentioned. "So how?"

"Simple," Harry said with a smile. "Kreacher!"

With a loud, forced pop, the elf appeared to the side of the platform. His pillow sheet outfit was dingy and torn, much matching the description of the elf.

"Filthy new master, not proper master, mudbloods and blood traitors…" The grizzled elf mumbled.

"Kreacher, be quiet unless I ask you a question." Harry ordered. "Do you still have the locket your master gave you, Regulus?"

"How does filthy master know?" Kreacher asked, suddenly panicked. "I failed master, I couldn't destroy it, no matter what I did. Kreacher tried everything, Kreacher did."

"Go get it from where you've hidden it, quickly and quietly, communicate with no one, and come back here immediately thereafter." Harry ordered.

"Bloody elf," Ron groused. "At least he can't misinterpret those orders."

A minute after, Kreacher reappeared with the dreaded locket in-hand. Harry conjured a velvet bag and waited for the elf to drop it in.

"Kreacher." Harry began. "From now on I expect you to act like a Black elf. You will clean Grimmauld place from bottom to top, and every dark artifact will be put into a trunk and stored in the attic. The attic is to then be warded, no one but myself or yourself can enter. You may not take or give things that belong in the house. If you see someone attempt to take things from the house, expel them, violently. I want the entire contents of the library, both the main and the master library, packed into two trunks. Any books with curses or spells or enchantments that are harmful or anything of the sort will be in a separate trunk from the others. You may not leave the house but for once a week to purchase groceries. In that time, you may only purchase groceries. You speak to no one about what you hear inside the house, no one but myself. You may not share these secrets, or write them down, or in any way attempt to spread them. You will not attempt to harm myself, Ron, or Hermione. You aren't allowed to harm or kill yourself. You will find yourself a new uniform, that fits, and you will keep it clean. You will also bathe, every other day at least if not more. You will not answer the call of anyone other than myself, Ron, or Hermione. If someone in Grimmauld asks you to do something, you have my permission to spit in their face. Except for Remus Lupin."

"Did I cover everything?" He asked Hermione and Ron.

"Mudblood is a disgusting word," Hermione said simply.

"Kreacher, you will stop discriminating against people or creatures on the basis of race or blood. You are no longer allowed to say mudblood, half blood, or blood traitor, or anything similar or synonymous to those words."

"Okay now you've covered everything." Hermione conceded.

"Now leave, and begin cleaning the manor." Harry ordered.

The elf popped away with a look of pure hatred.

Harry put the Horcrux into an empty, warded portion of his trunk. "That takes care of one. And it seems like the piece of Voldemort in me stayed gone, and didn't come with the body. I guess dying once was enough."

"I guess so," Ron agreed. "But I'm sure you'll come near death again soon Harry, it's in your nature."

"Oh thanks Ron, that was real reassuring."

"Anytime mate." Ron quipped. "So we need more Horcrux plans. Aside from that, what else?"

"I need to have all the books from my vaults and from Potter manor duplicated and brought to the new house." Harry said, watching Ron take note. "What should we do about the Ministry? Scrimgeour is going to run amok, arresting Stan from the Knightbus soon."

"Man is such a tool," Hermione said. "As an experienced auror, should know better. If she'd have given him enough time, he'd have tried to overthrow the Queen."

At once, the trio's magic shuddered.

"Woah," Ron said. "Looks like our oaths are still in place."

"It seems so," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"Hermione, use all those magazines I gave you, and papers, and create a folder. I'll go into the prophet offices later and buy copies of their papers from the last war."

"You want to show the Queen everything that's wrong here?" Hermione asked.

"Exactly. Write your own accounts if you need to, or talk to other muggleborns if you must. She needs to know about the prejudice. Also note the bribery in the upper tiers of the ministry, death eaters holding places in it, and death eaters walking about freely."

"I'll start working on that tomorrow then."

"Harry while you're in the alley, the vanishing cabinet from Borgin and Burkes." Ron said, knowing he had forgotten something.

"Don't destroy it!" Hermione said. "Those could be useful, if we repair them ourselves."

"Alright, so buy or steal the cabinet." Harry responded. "Dully noted."

"Guys, we'll leave any more planning till we get to the house tomorrow," Ron said as he shrunk his trunk with a tap (not underage magic, just a built in trunk feature).

"Alright," Harry agreed. "Where do you guys want to meet? I have a portkey."

"Hm," Hermione thought. "Not here, would leave a portkey trail. What about behind the Rook? Where the Lovegood wards end?"

"Easy enough," Ron agreed. "Seven in the morning?"

"Alright, seven it is." Hermione said. "You two be good, Harry don't cause any trouble."

"Never." Harry said sarcastically.

Hermione stood up and apparated home with a wave. Ron turned and began running back towards the house, saying goodbye to Harry while the aforementioned boy stood, vanished the trash from their lunch, as well as the entire set up, and apparated back to the back garden of Privet Drive.

* * *

When he had come across his aunt upon walking inside, he gave her a cold glare.

"Boy," she began, only to be cut off by Harry.

"Listen, bitch," he growled. "Had enough of you and your family. I'll be gone soon enough, until then keep your mouth shut when you look at me." He didn't even wait to see her face, walking up the stairs he had hoped he'd never see again.

Okay, he could have angled that more maturely. But he had no love for those people, and he never would. For the remaining fifteen hours he had to be there, they would leave him alone and he them.

Locking the door to his small bedroom behind him, Harry cast a small cleaning charm as well as a silencing spell so no sound would escape.

"Hoot," Hedwig greeted him.

"Hey there girl," Harry said, walking to her perch and stroking her feathers. Feeding her an owl treat, he idly thought of what to do.

What a cluster fuck his life had become. As if it wasn't before, he gets sent back to one of the worst times.

"Although," he thought to himself. "This is the time where we can do the most good too."

Having thought for a moment, Harry pulled both his old and new trunk towards him as he sat on the floor. The old trunk and its contents were emptied out, Harry vanishing all the trash and broken quills. The previous years books, and those he had been gifted, were all transferred over, while he album and invisibility cloak were secured safely. His broom was stored in the same compartment, followed by some knickknacks and gifts he didn't know he had.

He noticed his summer homework was completed, oddly proud of his younger self. More like grateful, that he didn't have to slog through it.

His school books were stored in the backpack along with a pack of parchment and quills.

Happy with his organizing efforts, Harry shrunk his trunk and put it back in his pocket. He had hours to kill, what to do, what to do.

Sitting himself back up at his desk, Harry took out his account ledgers and some parchment.

"Wouldn't hurt to make a few investments," He said to himself. "Or to switch some things around."

* * *

An hour and a half later, it was approaching 2:45 in the afternoon. Stretching and cracking his neck, Harry reapplied the glamor he had been using and decided to go into Diagon, to the prophet offices.

The office was a simple, one story shop with a white brick face. Inside, the receptionist sat by a fireplace and fussed with her makeup in a mirror.

"I'd like to buy copies of the prophet from the last two decades."

"The records office sells a collectors pack." She said, bored and not even bothering to look at Harry.

"And where would that be?" Harry asked shortly. She jerked her finger towards a door on the right.

Buying three collectors packs of the prophet was a simple affair and only cost him ten galleons each. They were also ordered by year and month, which was a bonus.

His next stop of the day was Borgin and Burkes.

Pulling his dark cloak deeper over his face and casting a shadow obscuring charm so no one could see under it, Harry approached the entrance of the darker alley.

Letting loose some of his magic, most everyone avoided him down the alley, even hags stepping away.

Walking into the dark junk shop, and trafficker of dark artifacts, Harry approached Borgin, behind the counter.

"I want that cabinet." He demanded in a sneering tone, pointing towards it.

"It's not for sale," Borgin said gruffly. "But perhaps you would be interested in-"

"50 galleons."

"It's still not for sale."

"100."

"I already have a buyer," he said, wavering.

"200."

"Take it," Borgin said greedily.

Harry shrunk the cabinet with a wave of his hand, summoning it and pocketing it gently. He emptied the contents of his money pouch, exactly 200 galleons, and left Knockturn alley.

Once back in Diagon, he lowered the hood of his cloak and entered a small cafe on a small side alley.

Having a small lunch, a roast beef sandwich and some treacle, Harry contemplated how things were soon to change in the wizarding world.

If Hermione's folder on the wizarding world got to the desk of the Queen, which Harry was sure it would, things would flip fast and hard. Plus if she could point out each and every death eater, they'd be ousted from the ministry.

Of course it would piss Voldemort off, so the building, or, rather, the offices contained within it, needed to be preserved.

As he finished his plate, Harry pushed aside those thoughts for another time, leaving his payment and tip on the counter.

Back to the apparition alleyway, Harry turned on his heel and went back to Privet Drive for the night.

* * *

**Well there it is. Substantially longer than the others, and hopefully not terribly cliche. Let me know what you think in a review.**


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